Flee From Memory
by rthstewart
Summary: After the siege of Anvard, a Tiger is clingy, a King gets inkstains, a Queen goes courting, Horses share deeds of great daring, Crows make wagers, stories are forgotten, and a Faun is a diplomatic liar and most unreliable narrator. Written for the 2015 Narnia Fic Exchange
1. The Tale of the Courting Queen

To flee from memory  
Had we the Wings  
Many would fly  
Inured to slower things  
Birds with surprise  
Would scan the cowering Van  
Of men escaping  
From the mind of man

 _To Flee From Memory_ by Emily Dickinson

* * *

Written for Selden for the Narnia Fic Exchange 2015. (If you have an AO3 account, you really need to read their story, PSmith Giantslayer. There are many other wonderful stories in that exchange, some of which are now being reposted here).

 _Flee From Memory_ is especially for those who have looked for more background on Lucy's consort, told of in various parts of _The Stone Gryphon_. My thanks to Heliopause, Metonomia, and Syrena_of_the_Lake for the beta assistance.

* * *

Tumnus relegated riding horseback to the same category as bitterberry infusions, any visit to Cair Paravel's prickly Porcupine Physician, and every brick of Tashbaan – to be necessarily endured with polite countenance and gritted teeth.

Fauns were simply not designed to travel on horses or Horses. In Tashbaan there had been litters and camels were big and broad enough to carry palanquins. There was no time for that now and he did not want to make a fuss. Besides, to avoid their wuffling adoration of the High King's most royal mien, and the spitting hissy fights that invariably ensued when competing to be in his august presence, King Peter permitted no camel within a day's travel of Cair Paravel.

He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle rigged especially for Faun legs and hooves and took a quick breath of the fetid air.

"We're nearly there," Horace said. "Sorry you're so uncomfortable."

"The fault is mine, not yours, Friend," Tumnus told his mount. "Thank you all the same for so willingly bearing me."

"That's the fifth time you've thanked me," Horace snorted. Pinning back his ears, he added, "Enough already."

Given the exigencies of the situation, and Tumnus' own difficulties with horseback, Horace had offered to bear him from Cair Paravel to Anvard with all haste. Horace had done it before and it was his own decision but, nevertheless, riding a Talking Horse was an honour Tumnus never took for granted. As difficult as it was for him, at least a Talking Horse was conscious of his discomfort and tried to ameliorate it.

Dumb crows cawed from the trees and the morning haze had lifted to reveal what was better obscured. The blood on the road leading to the Anvard gates had dried but was still attracting vultures. The dead and wounded, and parts thereof, from the Calormene siege had already been removed from the battlefield but, still, the last of this journey was grim.

 _And for what?_

Tumnus' horns hadn't ached so since he'd poured oil over the roiling waters of threatened war after the Mer-folk had sunk the Seven Isles fishing fleet in retaliation for poaching on their flocks.

The Seven Isles debacle had been resolved through delicate negotiations and significant reparations. In Calormen, however, diplomacy had failed altogether and the Narnia treasury could not afford the price a Prince's wounded pride exacted. They had had to sneak out of Tashbaan like dumb rats through a sewer and Rabadash had, with the support of his father, _the Tisroc-who-would-not-live-forever-and-then-what?_ , single-handedly declared war upon Archenland and Narnia - with conquest, pillage, and the kidnap and rape of a Narnian Queen next.

"Battlefields are no place for the living," Horace said. "I'm going to canter us in, if that's alright?"

"Fine, yes, please."

"Get a good hold of that saddle. I'll go as smooth as I can."

Tumnus took a deep breath and gripped the leathers. For a human, galloping through the Anvard gate – and thank Father Pan it had withstood Rabadash's battering ram – would be an entrance in grand style meriting a splendid reception. Such was not possible or advisable for a stout, aging Faun clinging to the saddle and his dignity. The Hound guards they'd sent ahead would find Lucy and she would be all the greeting party Narnia's senior ambassador needed, or wanted.

He was especially looking forward to seeing Lucy again. He had not seen her since Yule when he'd been detailed to Calormen. And just as he disembarked from the _Splendour Hyaline_ at the Cair Paravel dock, Chervy burst in with news of the attack on Anvard and Lucy was racing to the Armory and was off to war.

Tumnus was, therefore, surprised and disappointed that King Edmund was in the castle courtyard to meet him, and not Lucy.

Horace slowed to an elegant stop; Tumnus slid like a sack of dung to the ground, very grateful for King Edmund's steadying hand.

"Thank you, and good afternoon, King Edmund. Congratulations on your victory. All Narnia celebrates and Queen Susan most especially."

King Edmund nodded. They did not need hand signals to communicate that further, intimate discussion would occur in a place more private than the Anvard courtyard. "A better end than I'd dared hope," the King replied. "And complex issues still to resolve, so my thanks in coming so quickly, Tumnus."

Perhaps that was why Lucy was not here. King Edmund knew the two of them would dally and he wanted to get right to work.

"Hello, Jalur," Tumnus said to King Edmund's Tiger Guard. Jalur, of course, said nothing in reply. Even by the standards of Great Cats, Jalur was taciturn, and would be aggressively over-protective of his charge given that King Edmund had left him behind when they made the disastrous trip to Tashbaan.

It had been, Tumnus now realized, a deliberate scheme by Rabadash. The firm but polite request that the Monarchs' large, and very sensitive, carnivore Guards remain in Narnia had been expressed in diplomatic terms of mutual trust and courteous reciprocity. But Rabadash had surely known that Queen Susan's Wolf Guard, Lambert, disliked him, and had sought to separate the Queen from her trusted, astute, and lethal advisor.

King Edmund inclined his head to Horace. "And you have my thanks, Horace, for bearing our valued ambassador so quickly."

"Didn't want to miss this ruckus." Horace raised his head and turned it about, searching the courtyard. "Is it true, what we heard, your Majesty? The Lion turned Rabadash into an ass?"

"It is. He is in the stables now, he has lost the gift of speech, though he comprehends it, and no, you may not go see for yourself."

"I'd surely not want company if I'd been turned to a dumb ass." Horace stomped a hoof. "I've got a wager with the Crows, though. Can't wait to collect it from the Donkeys back home."

He turned, and offered his near side. "If you wouldn't mind, your Majesty?"

"Of course." King Edmund made quick work of loosening the girth on the saddle. "Eirene is in the Narnian barracks; she's set aside your favorite berth and will get you a nice rub down and something to eat."

Narnians traveled frequently enough to Anvard that Lune set aside special, and separate, quarters for them. In truth, the Narnians preferred being with their own kind as much as the humans of Anvard preferred to not share their castle with Rats, Crows, Talking Bears, Great Cats, and Centaurs.

"Also, Horace, there are two Narnian Horses with us now, both refugees from Calormen. Our victory over Rabadash and his 200 horse cavalry is due in no small part to their valour. They are both nervous about their return to Narnia, the Stallion especially."

"I'll be sure to talk to them, your Majesty. Going from slave to free can be hard for a Horse and you're always worrying about fitting in with the Herd." Tumnus got a hard nudge in the arm. "Don't forget those saddlebags; didn't bounce them all the way from Cair Paravel for you to leave 'em strapped to my back."

"Quite right, and thank you again." Tumnus took his saddlebags and looped them over his arms; Horace trotted off in the direction of the Barracks. Tumnus wished he was joining the other Narnians himself. Lucy frequently found Anvard's stuffy court ladies unpleasantly judgmental and would spend as much time in the Narnian quarters as courtesy permitted. But for this visit, Tumnus knew all his business would be in the castle.

"So Prince Cor did return with a Narnian Talking Horse? Corin got that right?"

"He did. The Stallion, Bree, was in the Army. We have ninety-three members of the Calormene cavalry, alive, all of whom need to be ransomed and repatriated. We have one-hundred and six dead, who must be identified, survivors contacted, and arrangements made for the return or disposition of the remains. And, one ass."

King Edmund flexed his fingers – they were even more ink-stained than usual. "Come. We have work and much to discuss."

"Is Lucy not here?" Tumnus finally asked as he followed his King through the castle to the second, private floor given over for Narnian use. He could not recall a time when they had not especially sought one another out after a long time apart. "Is she well?"

"She is fine but otherwise engaged on court business for the moment," King Edmund said vaguely. The Anvard servants they encountered were undoubtedly listening though they all scurried away with one grumpy glare from Jalur.

After one girl turned a corner too quickly and yelped in surprise at the Tiger's snarl, King Edmund intervened. "Jalur, must you terrify _everyone_ we encounter?"

"Yes," the Tiger said.

"Might I bargain for your less alarming countenance for the duration of our stay in exchange for a visit with the Otters at the Glasswater on our return to the Cair?"

"No."

It was a measure of Jalur's discontent that even the prospect of harassing his longtime foes was not a sufficient inducement to better behavior.

Two Hounds, Dusmia and Conall, guarded the passage to the Narnian suite of rooms. "Tumnus and I will be in the office and require privacy; only Narnians may enter until I say otherwise," King Edmund ordered. "We will work until the dinner summons."

With so many questions, and the privacy to finally hear the tale in full, Tumnus quickly deposited his personal kit in his rooms, washed the dirt of the road from his hands and horns, brushed his fur, and collected his secretary's supplies. Jalur allowed him to enter the office, then nudged the door shut with his nose and stretched out in a patch of sunlight in front of the door. The Tiger was a formidable barrier to anyone trying to get in, or if King Edmund attempted to get out.

King Edmund glanced at the Tiger doorstop and shook his head. Jalur growled. "I heard that."

"I didn't say anything!" King Edmund protested.

"You didn't have to." With a satisfied sigh, Jalur flexed his claws and scraped them with a long, piercing _scriiiitch_ over the stone floor. He rested his enormous head between his paws and fixed his yellow eyes on King Edmund.

A clinging, needy Tiger was a fearsome thing, indeed.

On the long table dominating the office space there were crisp stacks of parchment, inks and fresh quills, sand, wax, and a brace of candles, with a whole crate of extra supplies. Tumnus was glad to see someone had anticipated his aging haunches and provided a well-padded chair – probably the mysteriously still absent Lucy.

King Edmund held up a stack of already penned and sealed letters. "Bree served in the Calormene cavalry for several years. He has been invaluable in helping us identify the deceased. He knows all the survivors as well and enjoyed drafting the letter demanding ransom for his former owner."

The King tossed them aside and slumped into a chair. Tumnus gratefully took the cushioned seat.

"I'd suggest wine, Tumnus, but I, at least, need a clear head. First, tell me, how is Susan? Lucy and I were both very uneasy leaving her behind."

"She is well, King Edmund, and as angry as I have ever seen her." With her brother, Tumnus could be blunt. "I have not seen any of the brooding which we know the Gentle Queen can fall prey to when she feels she has erred."

"That is good to hear," King Edmund said, visibly relieved. "Though, once she has more time to dwell on this miserable escapade, I fear bitter self-reproach will follow."

"Perhaps, but she knows there is no time for such things now when Narnia greatly needs her steady leadership. She wanted to come herself, of course, but deemed it necessary to remain at the Cair with your lady consort, given that you and Lucy are here, and the High King still at the Northern border…"

"And what news from my brother?" Here, alone, King Edmund would let his worry show. "Peter is still hopeless at Rat and Crow, and given the situation he wouldn't send me any message unless it is in code, so my news is through Morgan and three days old."

"Better," Tumnus said. "I do not know the details because, as you say, King Peter is not adept with the cipher. But Trice flew from their camp and found me on the road so that I might make your brother's report to you. The Ettins finally retreated back across the border yesterday and disappeared into their caves. The High King will conduct final sweeps of the area. I believe he will be returning to the Palace before we do, which is welcome given the state of its current defences."

The tension in King Edmund's face softened and he nodded. "Excellent. Though that will be a sad return. We have days of grief and farewells ahead."

The past ten-day had been dire. Even as they had plotted to flee Tashbaan or die there, the High King had called up the Narnian army to defend their northern border from an unexpected, aggressive Ettin incursion. The timing had been so inconvenient as to suggest possible collaboration between the Tisroc and the Giant Queen, but their Rat and Crow spies had found no evidence of it.

Upon learning of the attack upon Anvard, King Edmund and Lucy marched out in defence of their ally with what reserves could be called up and collected along the way, leaving Cair Paravel undefended. Narnia was not equipped to fight on two fronts and if either force had fallen, it would have gone very ill.

The actions had been costly. In the intense northern action, Sir Leszi, their swordmaster, had fallen. Two Gryphons, including Liluye, the General's own daughter, died recovering Leszi's body.

Even alone, still Tumnus spoke in a low voice. "And your news? Aslan really turned Rabadash into a donkey?"

King Edmund nodded. In an even quieter undertone, he added, "Rabadash must return to Tashbaan. He will regain his human form if he presents himself at the Temple of Tash at the Autumn Feast."

The transformation was horrifying enough but this very public humiliation was even worse. "Thousands will be on hand," Tumnus said. " _Everyone_ will know, _everyone_ will see it."

"And once he becomes man again, if he ever travels more than ten miles from the Temple, he will return to an ass, permanently."

Tumnus digested the news, cataloging how it would be received by other foreign courts, beginning with "frosty and unsettled" and ending with "severing all diplomatic ties with Narnia," "throwing the Narnian ambassador in gaol," and "setting all Narnian ships on fire before a hoof or paw could come ashore."

In other company, Tumnus would voice stronger criticism of Aslan's seemingly cruel and very provocative retaliation. The excuse devout Narnians so often gave that Aslan wasn't "a Tame Lion" didn't begin to explain the Lion's often inexplicable actions. Rather than this harrowing danger and needless loss of life, wouldn't it have been easier if Aslan had simply reinforced Lambert's warnings that Rabadash was not an appropriate suitor and consort for Queen Susan? A single word of caution would have prevented all this bloodshed, grief, and a grotesque and gaudy vengeance that now endangered Narnia's credibility in the wider world.

With Narnia's Monarchs, however, and most especially Lucy and King Edmund, Tumnus only very, very carefully expressed his doubts about Aslan's arbitrariness that he and other, older Narnians had nursed through the long, dark cold of one hundred years of winter.

"Rabadash's transformation gains us an advantageous peace with Calormen, your Majesty, but it is likely very short-lived and at a cost."

King Edmund tapped a nervous finger on the table. "I recognize that Rabadash is significantly weakened by this, which is unfortunate as we have long assumed he is the least objectionable of the Tisroc's heirs. The other sons are surely worse. We know that Namavar has actively plotted against us."

"Calormene court politics being what they are, I would not be surprised if we learn that Namavar or other heirs and their agents had urged Rabadash to this rash act by playing to his pride and manipulating his fears. We will need to increase our covert presence in Calormen."

"A measure to raise at council on our return, to be sure," King Edmund replied.

Tumnus was relieved that devotion to Aslan was not blinding King Edmund to the difficult ramifications of the Lion's retribution. In Tumnus' opinion, justice would have been better served if the Just King had administered it. King Edmund could achieve deterrence, protection, and rehabilitation without this troubling humiliation.

"Further, your Majesty, I regret to say that this will complicate our diplomacy in other quarters. You and Queen Susan will likely both need to personally assure our trading partners that we do not have any intention of turning foreign heads of state into livestock."

Though King Edmund's look sharpened at even this mild criticism, he did nod thoughtfully. "Yes, Peridan intimated as much. And speaking of, Peridan is not here because he is with King Lune, and Lord Hur, and Hwin."

Peridan was Narnia's roving ambassador-at-large, comedic actor, and sometimes undercover human spy. At this time of day, he was also surely pretending to be, and might actually be, drunk. His knowledge of flowery Calormene verse was, however, extensive. Lord Hur was Lune's adroit ambassador to Calormen and also related by marriage to King Edmund's Lady Consort and bondmate, Banker Morgan of the House of Linch. Or something of that ilk. Tumnus always got lost in Archenland family trees.

"Who is Hwin?"

"A Mare, the other Narnian refugee, and I think even more adept at Calormene social niceties than Peridan. She traveled with Prince Cor and Bree, and a young Tarkheena runaway, who herself poses a unique set of diplomatic problems that, fortunately, are not ours."

So if a Tarkheena, she was not an escaped slave, like Prince Cor. "She was fleeing a forced marriage?" It happened, occasionally, though, in Tumnus' opinion, Archenland marital customs were not a huge improvement over Calormene ones. At least in Calormen, veneration of Mother Azaroth Many-Faced encouraged women to engage in a wider variety of occupations than Archenland's gentry and aristocracy typically permitted.

"She fled with Hwin," King Edmund said, "to escape marriage to the Grand Vizier."

Tumnus stared at his King, aghast. "You mean _Kidrash Tarkaan_ _'_ _s daughter_?! She's _here!_?"

"Just so." King Edmund pinched his nose between his fingertips, a sure sign of stress. "As mentioned, I am relieved that that is one diplomatic crisis that is _not_ ours."

All of Tashbaan had been afire with gossip of the highly advantageous marriage and that Tarkheena Aravis had abruptly disappeared, with foul play suspected.

"Lune has granted her asylum but her father has undoubtedly forfeited a substantial bride price to Ahoshta Tarkaan, and so some of the ransom Lune collects from his Tarkaan guests will have to be returned back, and…" King Edmund waved his hands. " _Numbers and finance._ I've become thoroughly spoiled with my Lady Banker handling such things. Lune's Exchequer sent a message today asking for her assistance."

"A summons she will surely respond to _with enthusiasm_ ," Tumnus said dryly. Banker Morgan had been the financial advisor to Archenland for many years before her bonding to King Edmund; the prospect of managing the ransoms of ninety-three Tarkaans and negotiating a complex settlement with Kidrash Tarkaan would, for Banker Morgan, be as Hummingbirds to red flowers (though without as much belligerent swearing) and Crows to shinys.

King Edmund drew a long checklist toward them. "One last thing before we begin – a very welcome development." The King pitched his voice louder. "Lady, are you here and merely waiting for your dramatic entrance?"

"She's alive!?" Tumnus cried, overjoyed at the news, and looking about for the beloved graying nose and hairless tail.

"Willa's not here," Jalur said sleepily. "She said she was going to listen in on anything the Tarkaan prisoners might say."

"How did she make it out of Tashbaan?" The most wrenching moment of their escape from Calormen was when Sallowpad the Raven flew to the _Splendour Hyaline_ to report that Lady Willa had managed to infiltrate the Tisroc's Palace, was certain retribution would follow in the wake of their flight, and was determined to uncover any threats to Narnia. She'd told them to sail without her and, though Willa was wily and clever, a Narnian Talking Rat alone in Tashbaan was in terrible danger.

"Our good Lady Rat stowed away in Rabadash's own saddlebag. She said she had help; you'll need to hear the story from her." The King's voice turned disapprovingly sharp. "Willa shouldn't be running about the Calormene prison encampment. Lucy told her to rest."

With the mention, her absence became even more noticeable. Tumnus could not imagine any Archenland court entertainment so engaging as to keep Lucy from greeting her oldest friend.

"Where is Lucy, by the way? You said she was engaged in court matters, yet she detests such things. Is anything wrong?"

King Edmund's mouth twitched up to a smile. "I must choose my words carefully lest I irritate my Guard."

Jalur growled.

"During the siege, Lucy shot a Calormene off the back of one of Lune's foot soldiers. Both she and the soldier are, it has transpired, _very_ _grateful_ for her quick action that spared his life."

King Edmund turned back to Jalur. "Does my bland description satisfy you?"

Jalur's tail thumped on the ground.

"Yes, though if you show any excess of spirit to Queen Lucy, I shall make it known at court that you are seeking a lover whilst apart from Banker Morgan."

"No one would believe that! They know Morgan would financially ruin them!"

"The exceptionally stupid and silly ones would not be deterred," Jalur replied.

This sounded appalling and, judging from King Edmund's expression, he agreed. Tumnus, though, was back at the first disclosure, trying to digest the apparent implication and rejecting it utterly. _Surely not._ It was preposterous. "I'm sorry, King Edmund, but I do not understand. You said that Lucy and this person are grateful. What do you mean?"

"The Queen has taken a Knight, Tumnus. Lucy has gone courting."

ooOOoo

Tumnus managed to ignore the dull ache in his horns to concentrate on the work that had to be done. It did not help that everyone was so irrepressibly cheerful at Lucy's suitor-conquest-lover-affair-he-had-no-idea-what-to-call-it.

When he had queried whether King Edmund had rigorously vetted this _new_ _friend of_ his younger sister, Jalur had growled at his presumption and the King had laughed.

"Tumnus, Lucy would never allow me to question her judgment, nor is it my place. More to the point, when has my sister's heart ever led her astray?"

"Surely Briony has concerns with the very rapid course of this development?" Briony, Lucy's she-Wolf guard, was an excellent judge of character. Briony's mate, Lambert, was Guard to Queen Susan and had not trusted Rabadash. The whole debacle might have been avoided if Queen Susan, and everyone else, had heeded Lambert's warnings.

"Briony's tail has not stopped wagging," King Edmund said. "It takes a more foolishly stubborn person than I to question her and Lucy's collective judgment. And if I did, Briony would surely bite me."

Seeing defeat in this quarter, Tumnus pursued a different tack with the more suspicious Tiger. "Jalur, what is your opinion?"

Jalur growled again, though it was unclear whether he was unhappy with the question or that he was being spoken to at all. Jalur hated communicating and especially disliked questions that could not be answered with a simple "yes" or "no." "I do not object to Aidan Gunarr. He smells fine. He and Queen Lucy are not being stupid about their courtship."

"I recognize that as criticism of your liege, Jalur," King Edmund warned.

Granted King Edmund and Banker Morgan's own courtship had spanned _years_ , but wasn't that better than being so hasty? "What do you mean that they have not been stupid?" Tumnus asked.

Jalur flicked his tail and, with a pointed glare at his King, said, "Aidan Gunarr and Queen Lucy talk. They say what they mean. Humans _never_ do that."

Tumnus wished Jalur had stopped there, but the Tiger continued, "And they like to mate."

"Yes, thank you, Jalur! That is quite enough!" King Edmund said, with another laugh. "Not that it matters, for my sister is her own judge, but I am satisfied with Aidan Gunarr, Tumnus."

Tumnus was grateful King Edmund did not add, "And you should be satisfied as well."

As he worked through the next reparation and ransom letter, Tumnus tried to sort through why he was so flummoxed by Lucy courting a human lover. All it did was turn his horn-ache from dull to full-on throbbing.

He stared at the blank page, trying to order the words into a courteous demand to Vashti Tarkheena for reparations necessitated by her hotheaded son riding after Rabadash into disaster.

This all seemed so out of character for Lucy. The little girl he had first met so long ago had grown into a woman who disdained games of political courtship – and for a queen, it was _always_ political.

That aspect, he could understand. There were no political repercussions for Lucy in romancing a common peasant soldier. While this would be scandalous in some courts, Narnia had no such repressive taboos and her own family did not object. Though, surely being lover to a Narnian Queen was far beyond his station and had personal and pecuniary advantage for Aidan Gunarr.

Tumnus was certainly not the least bit prudish – he was a Faun, after all, and had, in his youth, dipped his horns and hooves into those heady waters. By the light of blazing bonfires he had guzzled the herb-laced wine that enflamed the body and twined with Dryads and rutted with the Satyrs beneath hazy stars. He had enjoyed exquisitely refined sensual pleasures with his own kind. Once the Long Winter departed, he had reveled in the lusty annual romps with the Wood folk in the Western Wilds. Eventually, he had introduced Lucy to those yearly festivals. And once she began participating, he withdrew. What she did, and with whom, she never revealed and he never asked. He felt concernedly parental over Lucy and was happier not knowing any details, assuming there were any to know.

Lucy had never seemed to have a gap in her life that needed to be filled with a human lover. She had always been so grounded and joyously fulfilled with Aslan, her family, her country, her subjects, and her calling as a Queen. She had her many friends, of which he always been the first and most special.

 _Not anymore._

With a sigh, he carefully blotted out another error on the clean parchment and began again the fifteenth ransom letter, this one to the father of Behrouz Tarkaan, who was currently enjoying Anvard hospitality as a prisoner of war.

* * *

King Lune invited them all to a celebratory dinner on the lawns around Anvard castle. Tumnus questioned the wisdom of hosting a gathering in a place that was so recently a battlefield. They were upwind of the worst of it but the turf was heavily pocked from boots, spikes, pikes, hoofs, and the wheels of a battering ram and he certainly did not want to sit on the grass just yet. The noxious odours weren't too noticeable, at least for him. For the Talking Beasts, it was surely more pervasive, but he heard none make any complaint. The smoky lanterns kept away the worst of the flies.

Lune probably thought it all more convenient for the Narnians to be out of doors. In fact, it was an accommodation for the members of the Anvard court who preferred their "livestock" on, and not at, the dining table of the Anvard Great Hall.

When Lucy rushed into his arms, the cold uncertainty he had nursed melted in the warmth of her joyful enthusiasm.

"Mr. Tumnus!" Lucy cried and flung herself at him so vigorously, she nearly knocked him off his hooves. "I am so happy to see you!"

From the moment of their first meeting, it was impossible to dislike Aidan Gunarr. The man was over a head taller than Lucy, who was by no means a dainty thing, and twice as broad, with the cheerful, rough goodness of the Archenland peasantry.

Aidan made a clumsy bow that was charming because he was so self-effacing about it.

"Mr. Tumnus, it's such an honour to meet you. Lucy says you are brilliant and kind and every sort of wonderful thing and her very best friend and that's surely the best thing a person could have."

"The honour is mine, Soldier," Tumnus said, and found he meant it. The subtle barbs he had been rehearsing died on his lips. "Lucy's heart never errs and her commendation of you is the very highest of praise." He bowed deeply. "I am at your service, sir."

When Lucy and Aidan turned away to greet King Lune, Tumnus said quietly, "Briony?"

The Wolf pricked her ears and immediately came to him. He knelt beside her so they could speak quietly, though not privately, for there was no privacy among sharp-eared, perceptive Narnians.

"Tumnus, it is good to see you again. Thank you so much for your help to Susan. You have given so much good advice to Lucy. Know that she is very grateful, even if too distracted to speak much of it now."

"I am glad I was able to assist. It's an unhappy business with some good coming of it and many complications." Nodding toward Lucy and Aidan, now holding hands as they moved to the head table, he asked, very seriously, "Lady Guard, you are content?" He needed no further elaboration; Briony understood.

The Wolf smiled, lips pulling up over her teeth in a genuinely happy expression and she wagged her tail. "I am. Lucy is happier than I have ever known her to be."

 _Happier than when she was my friend?_

"Then I share in her joy."

Briony gave him a long look and her tail slowed its cheerful wag. She put her nose to his ear and her whiskers were sharp and tickled. "This is _Lucy_. She can love more than one person in more than one way, Tumnus. You will _always_ be special to her."

He found his eyes pricking with unshed tears. Presuming greatly, but knowing that Briony would not object, he put his arms about the Wolf's strong shoulders and allowed her sturdy confidence to bolster him against the nagging doubt.

"Thank you, Friend."

She licked his cheek.

At dinner, usually he would join Lucy, King Edmund, and King Lune at the head table, sitting to the left of one of his Monarchs. Tonight, Aidan took that seat next to Lucy and King Edmund was seated between King Lune and Lord Hur.

Lucy caught his eyes and looked about, frowning, as if a third place at her side would suddenly appear. Buoyed by Briony's wise compassion, he shook his head and smiled back widely, making a shooing gesture, and signaling he would be joining the boisterous Narnians at their merry lower table. Narnians loved to gossip and he _was_ curious to hear what the others thought about Aidan. He would surely be mediating an argument or three, and, as the Crows were about, he would probably be halting some unseemly wagering, or at least ordering the payoffs to occur somewhere other than within sight of the high table.

Briony and Jalur joined them and Horace introduced him to the two Horses, Bree and Hwin. Harah and Kangee the Crows were hopping around the table stealing knives and scolding everyone. For Dusmia and Conall, there were no appropriately Dog-sized chairs to sit at the table so the Hounds sat upon it, which also put them much closer to the food. Though they should have been at the end of the high table, Prince Corin dragged his twin, Prince Cor, and Lady Aravis, to the Narnian table as well. Cor and Aravis, who had both been obviously overwhelmed, were immediately happier once they were next to Bree and Hwin. The Horses weren't the only ones with a difficult adjustment ahead.

To accommodate so many different diets, and the lack of hands, the Narnian table was covered with a wide array of cheeses, greens, raw vegetables, nuts, fruits, shellfish, and meats. Though it was kindly thought of, usually Narnians ate little animal flesh at table. The Canines wouldn't miss meat at a single meal as they ate everything and anything except grapes, chocolate, and garlic. Those that were exclusively carnivores, like Jalur, preferred fresh, raw meat and, out of deference to others, they usually ate that only with those who didn't mind a lot of blood, guts, flies, and hair.

"Hey, budge over Tumnus!"

"Willa!" He knelt to embrace the Rat, who was looking worryingly gray with age and fatigue. She was also still very sandy and smelled like Rabadash's 200 horses.

"Lady, I am very happy to see you again!"

The Rat accepted his greeting in her perfunctory, unemotional way, then climbed up on to the bench next to him to get down to the serious business of eating. Willa was passionate about food and spying and was an expert in both. He drew a plate of cheeses and sausages closer so that she could enjoy her meal without straining and before Dusmia and Conall ate it all. Even a Hound wouldn't eat from a plate that Willa claimed.

"Glad you all made it out and it was a near thing for me," Willa said, poking and sniffing the cheese. She liked the sharply seasoned and mouldy ones best. "So, Tumnus, what do you think of Aidan Gunarr?"

"It does not matter what I think, Willa. " With a glance at the Wolf sitting next to them, he said, "Lucy and Briony both approve and are happy and so, therefore, am I."

Willa glanced at him, her round black eye as perceptively sharp as always. "Well that's all fine but I wanted to know if Queen Lucy had let a viper into her bed. We made a mistake with those Meryl Bankers and I wasn't going to get distracted by a kindly manner again."

Next to him, Briony grumbled.

Willa reached over and scratched Briony's chin. "You knew I was going to do a background check and so does your Queen."

"Willa…" he began.

The Rat grabbed a piece of cheese and crammed it into her mouth, so her words were muffled. Of course, at least half of Willa's security briefings were given when her mouth was full, so they were used to hearing her speak around food. "He's really poor. Lives in Anvard lower town. Typical Archenland soldier-type. No debts. No time in gaol. No bad habits, except he only drinks ale, not wine and looks like he leaves his socks and boots around. Not sure how Queen Lucy will feel about that. Good teeth, though. No enemies. No wife. She's dead."

"Willa…"

She raised her arm and scratched her fur, then grabbed a chunk of especially pungent blue cheese. "Lots of pups – children, that is, his and his brother's, who's also dead. An older girl, his niece, is taking care of the little ones. She's got good healing skills, everyone speaks well of her. It's a hard life, though. I went to the soldiers' quartermaster, searched through his books and looked in the barracks and bunks. Didn't find anything, though you should tell King Lune to pay his soldiers more." To the Wolf, Willa said, "You and Queen Lucy are right, Briony. Aidan Gunarr is who he says he is."

Willa was always _very_ thorough, even when not asked to be.

"And, he is a very good man who Lucy likes very much," Briony said firmly.

"Did you see what he did before dinner?" Horace injected from the end of the table. "He gave Queen Lucy a seedcake."

"Really?" Willa exclaimed. She was combing her fur again and flicking sand away, and maybe fleas.

"He groomed his feathers, too, when he first talked to Queen Lucy, and she must have liked that because they've mated already," Harah the Crow said. "Though Briony said that if Kangee and me took wagers on it, she'd eat my tail."

"I wouldn't possibly comment upon that," Briony said primly, keeping at least the semblance of a Queen's privacy as a Guard must do.

"Did he make the seedcake himself?" Willa asked, returning to the cheese plate and poking about for soft, smelly ones.

"I believe so," Briony replied. "Though, I don't think he knows what it means in Narnia when a male gives a female seeds or something he made."

"But, he's not a Bird, a Squirrel, or a Dwarf, so it doesn't apply," Kangee countered.

The only things Narnians loved more than the Four, gossip, wagering, gossiping about the Four, and wagering on the Four, were a good story and a good argument, with one usually leading to the other. An argument was brewing already and he'd not yet eaten a bite.

"But King Edmund and Banker Morgan did all those things when they bonded," Jalur said. "It took _months_. Seeds and cakes, nest building, the dances…"

"King Edmund never did fly upside down, though," Kangee said. "He was lucky Banker Morgan accepted him without him doing some fancy flying."

"King Edmund and Banker Morgan mated in front of the Herds, too," Horace added. "Glad I got a ticket from the Crows for that performance. Pretty impressive for Humans. I didn't know it could last that long."

"You weren't supposed to say anything about that!" Harah squawked.

"It's not a problem, Harah!" Kangee injected. "Banker Morgan knew. She got 40 percent of the ticket revenue."

Harah pecked Kangee on the wing. "You weren't supposed to say that either!"

Tumnus decided it was time to step in. "Friends, I recommend not discussing our Monarchs' rituals for bonding with a mate in this venue? Not everyone sees these matters as Narnians do."

"Humans are so weird," Willa said.

"They are, Friend."

He was able to eat several bites of bread, salads, and some of the fruit. He avoided the cheeses as they all bore Willa's pawprints, the Hounds and Horses had fought over the carrots, and he had to pick Crow feathers out of the greens. Willa was retelling her thrilling, dangerous mission through Tashbaan.

"They were wise to how we were using Talking Birds to listen in through open windows. Archers shoot any birds or Birds that fly too close to the Palace. And the land approach to the Tisroc's Palace was wide open with nowhere to hide, well lit at night and heavily guarded. I finally found a way to get inside by going in through the canals. There's a gate that leads from the water to an outside garden and into the Palace, and not much of a guard and sometimes no guard at all. That's when I learned that the Prince planned to march on Anvard. But you all were already long gone and I didn't have any way to warn you. So I figured I'd hide in the Tisroc's stables until Rabadash rode out, and hitch a ride with the cavalry. Then, at least I'd be in the North and could flag down a Bird or get the Glasswater Naiads to swim the message to Queen Lucy. I got into the biggest, nicest bag I could find, took a nap, and when I woke up, I was strapped to Rabadash's horse and galloping across the desert."

Willa paused, seemingly out of breath. Tumnus poured water into an empty bowl on the table so she could refresh herself and plucked some sweet, juicy grapes for her to slurp on. This mission had taken a lot of her flagging energy.

"And speaking of the Tisroc's Palace, Prince Corin!" Willa called.

The Prince bounced up from his seat, not that he'd been in it much. "Yes, Lady?"

"Show some manners and introduce me to your brother and the Tarkheena."

Aravis promptly stood and elbowed Prince Cor in the side.

"Ow! Aravis!"

"Stand up, you dolt!"

Cor looked around, blinking. "Why?"

Corin cleared his throat. "My brother, his Royal Highness, Prince Cor, and Lady Aravis, may I make known to you Lady Willa, Chief of the Mischief of Narnia?" In a loud undertone, he added, "That means she's the best spy in Narnia."

Aravis curtsied in fine Calormene style. It took shoves from both Corin and Aravis before Cor managed a bow that was so clumsy, it made Aidan's look graceful.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady," Aravis said.

"Hullo," Prince Cor said.

Lady Willa saluted them with her paw. "Thanks. Lady Aravis, this is actually the second time I've met you."

The girl startled. "How is that?"

"The secret conference you overhead from behind the sofa in the Tisroc's Palace? I was under the sofa."

"You were!?"

"That's amazing!" Prince Cor exclaimed.

"I only wish I had been able to catch up with you before you launched into that punt," Willa sighed, flicking more sand from her fur. "Smart piece of work there and it would have saved us all a lot of trouble getting back and raising the alarm."

"It was very bravely done and truly the stuff of great stories," Tumnus told her.

"Point is, though, your Highness and Lady Aravis, I had some help in Tashbaan and I can't make whiskers or tails out of it now."

"What help?" Briony asked as everyone else demanded clarification. That Willa could be mystified by _anything_ was shocking.

"A Talking Rat guided me," Willa said. "Except, he wasn't a Rat."

"Then what was he?" Jalur was intrigued enough to actually speak.

"I don't know," Willa responded. "Prince Cor? Lady Aravis? Know you of something in Calormen that can look and talk like a Rat, but isn't?"

Aravis shook her head. "No, I have not heard of such a thing."

"Sure you have, Aravis," Prince Cor said with a rude-sounding guffaw.

"No, Shas… Cor, I have not!"

"So, I know something you don't?"

Jalur and Briony both growled and Aravis and Cor immediately swallowed their squabbling with identical expressions of terror.

"It's really scary when they do that, isn't it?" Corin whispered loudly enough that every Narnian with ears could hear.

Prince Cor nodded and said more courteously to Willa, "Did the Rat tell you which way to go?"

"He did!" Willa replied eagerly. "And he didn't like Rabadash or the Tisroc _at all_."

Prince Cor's grin widened. "It was all just a big joke for him, wasn't it? It was hard to get him to be serious, but he helped when you really needed it? Told you which road to take?"

Willa's whiskers twitched. "He told me about the canal and when I was lost in the Palace, he helped me get to the stables. You've met him! Who is he?"

"The Trickster!" Prince Cor cried triumphantly.

"The Trickster?!" Lady Aravis scoffed.

"Don't talk that way, Aravis!" Prince Cor shot back. He made a warding gesture with his hands. "He wasn't your god, but he was mine. And it sounds like he helped Lady Willa which makes sense since he often appears to his people as a rat. We should leave an offering for him tonight to thank him."

"What sort of offering?" Willa asked.

Prince Cor shrugged. "Anything. An orange, an egg, a bit of honey, some seeds. Any blessing given the Trickster will return three-fold." He looked down thoughtfully at his own rich clothing and brushed away the dinner crumbs. "Though it's not as if I need the Trickster's blessings anymore. I'll ask him to return blessings to who Bree and I raided from."

Bree made a snickering sort of sound but Cor shook his head. "Don't, Bree. We took from the Trickster's own, the poor who are under his protection, same as I was. We needed it and he didn't punish us for it but I should thank him for it now that I can."

Tumnus was impressed – proper bowing and Princely protocol could be taught, but this was evidence of innate thoughtfulness and compassion in Archenland's future King. Prince Corin would have never even thought of the less fortunate or of helping them as Prince Cor was.

"If you followed the Trickster, then a word of thanks would be wise," Horace said. "Horses give thanks to Epona after a battle or a birth, and before a journey."

Bree put his ears back muttering under his breath, "Another thing we don't know…"

Recognizing his own devotionals has been scattered lately, Tumnus raised his mug of wine, drank deeply, and sent out a prayer of his own. _Thank you, Father Pan, for delivering my friends safely home, for the High King_ _'_ _s success, and for Lucy_ _'_ _s happiness._

Tumnus did not pray to Aslan.

"When you go, I'd like to join you," Willa said. With a look of longing, she set aside the fat walnut she'd been saving for dessert – Willa _loved_ walnuts. "A god that looks like a Rat and knows his way around a city is one I want to know better. I owe him a favour and my thanks."

"Of course," Prince Cor said. He stuffed a piece of bread in his pocket. "We can make the offering on the Castle wall, don't you think, Aravis?"

"I am doing no such thing," Aravis said huffily. "Only Aslan is real."

 _And he clawed you to prove it, didn't_ _he?_

"I left all that nonsense behind me, Trickster, Tash, and all. I'm a Northerner now."

Aravis' words betrayed deep ignorance. Aslan was not the only god abroad in Narnia. Other gods led the celebrations and dances, blessed the land, crops, wine, orchards, Beasts, and Trees, guarded the Waters, and remade the dead. Willa likely would have died in Tashbaan without the intervention of the Calormene Trickster. To deny the power and work of the other gods was so offensive to Narnians as to be near blasphemy. Horace stomped angrily, the Crows snapped their beaks, and Tumnus quickly drained his mug of wine before Bacchus turned it all to vinegar and snakes.

Fortunately, the very uncomfortable moment passed as King Lune's herald announced the evening entertainment and two players and the court poet stepped before the head table.

"They never tell stories the right way here," Willa muttered. "And it's going to be Fair Olvin fighting the Giant Pire and winning the fair Lady Liln. _Again._ "

"It's better if you change the story so that all the characters are Llamas," Briony whispered.

Tumnus managed to not burst out laughing at the idea of fair Lady Liln Llama and Giant Pire Llama. He quickly drank another mug and schooled himself to appear interested in hearing the boring song-story.

At the conclusion, Prince Corin undiplomatically called for Bree and Hwin to tell the story of their flight from Zalindreh. The Horses didn't begin the story the right way, either, which wasn't surprising, since they didn't know any better. No Narnian would blame them for the error but Tumnus felt sorry for them because Hwin and Bree would be embarrassed when they learned of the omission. The Narnians, though, were effusively enthusiastic, and exclaimed and chorused responses as their own kind told a heroic adventure in a foreign court. Talking Beasts were especially proud of their oral traditions and it was pleasing and humbling to be present the night that the story of _The Horse and His Boy and the Mare and Her Girl_ entered Narnian lore.

When the Horses concluded, a little drama began playing out at the head table.

"Oh dear," Briony said, swiveling her ears toward Lucy. The Wolf immediately got up and trotted over to join her Queen.

"What is it?" Tumnus whispered to Jalur, who was growling softly.

"King Lune has had too much wine. He's asking Queen Lucy to tell the story of the arrival of the Four in Narnia."

 _Not that one._ For different reasons, that was never a good story for Lucy to tell or for King Edmund to hear. Even for Narnians, though the tale ended happily, eventually, there was much misery and darkness to get there. _The Tale of How the Four Came To Narnia_ was told only at very solemn occasions and never casually, nor in celebration.

Jalur rose and went immediately to King Edmund's side. As irascible as Jalur was, he loved his King deeply and had obviously sensed his Monarch's unease. The Tiger would be there to support his King as Guard and Friend.

King Lune was interpreting Lucy's polite declination as false modesty. Aidan was visibly confused. He was perceptive enough to realize that Lucy did not want to tell the story and, though he did not know the source of her reluctance, that was enough for him to try to convince Lune that he did not need to hear the tale now. It was touching to see his respect for Lucy's feelings placed above his personal curiosity and Tumnus' opinion of Aidan rose further.

Lucy glanced at King Edmund, who reached across the table and squeezed his sister's hand. Tumnus did not need to hear the words to know that King Edmund said, "It's alright, Lu."

Lucy nodded and, with Briony following closely, took a seat in the circle of torches. Briony pressed close against Lucy's legs and Lucy dropped her hand down to the Wolf's back. Briony knew, as Tumnus himself did, what always happened once Lucy told the story and the Wolf would offer her succor throughout this ordeal.

Unexpectedly, Lucy glanced over her shoulder to him – not to Aidan or to her brother. Tumnus put his fist over his heart, the salute of the Order of the Lion. Lucy was a Knight of that Order and Aslan's Lioness, Valiant and Brave. She would persevere.

She nodded and returned the salute, tapping her fist over her own heart. He could see her lips move in a murmured prayer to Aslan.

 _Help her, Father Pan, for she loves the people of the Wood as you do._

Lucy cleared her throat, and began, as all proper Narnian tales began. "Come now Gentle Beasts and Birds, come now Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, that you might hear How The Four Came To Narnia. Narnians tell the tale in cave, nest, and den, in wood, mountain, meadow, and pond, so that we might remember it. So, Friends, heed my words. Stop and listen with your sensitive hearts so that all may know the tale. Harken to me now."

"It begins thus.

It was winter in Narnia, as it had been for ever so long, for nigh on one hundred years. Always it was winter, and never Yule."

"Always winter, never Yule," the Narnians repeated solemnly.

"And it was so cold and snowy and so dark, nothing could grow. There was no grass, no flowers, and no game. The Waters were frozen and the Trees were bare and silent. There was nothing to eat. Some went to sleep and never awoke."

Tumnus repeated the sad, somber response with the others. "It was cold and nothing grew. We were hungry. We died."

"And the cruel Witch, Jadis, ruled through fear and terror with an iron fist and icy wand. The four thrones of Cair Paravel were empty and hope was dead in Narnia."

"We were afraid and without hope," the Narnians said. "The four thrones were empty."

Silently, Tumnus added his own responsorial. _Aslan abandoned us._

"And one day, a young girl, a Daughter of Eve, from the far land of Spare Oom where eternal summer reigns around the bright city of War Drobe, opened a wooden door and found herself in Narnia."

"She came from War Drobe in the land of Spare Oom," the Narnians chorused.

"And the Daughter of Eve was knee deep in snow, very cold, very alone, and very much in need of a Friend."

The Narnians supplied the next line. "The Friend was a Faun."

 _The Faun was the Witch'_ _s agent who plotted to kidnap and betray the Daughter of Eve. The girl's_ _brother fell under the Witch's_ _enchantment and betrayed them all. Aslan abandoned his followers on the eve of battle and let them believe he had been brutally murdered._

Lucy found a rhythm, and, supported by her Narnian chorus and Briony pressed to her side, made it through the story, wisely omitting the many grimmer parts. With her voice and arms, she gathered them all in for the end. "And so it was, Friends, that winter left, spring came again, Aslan returned to Narnia, the Witch died, and the prophesies were fulfilled."

The Narnians all repeated the prophesies with her,

 _Wrong will be right, when Asian comes in sight,_  
 _At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,_  
 _When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,_  
 _And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again._

 _When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone_  
 _Sits at Cair Paravel in throne,_  
 _The evil time will be over and done._

Everyone applauded and cheered. Lucy was pale and Tumnus could see her hand was shaking as she stroked Briony.

King Edmund rushed forward from the table to embrace his sister and Tumnus felt a fresh burst of anger at all the misery Aslan had wrought. Again demonstrating his compassionate perception, Aidan was moving more slowly toward Lucy, giving the brother and sister the moment he could see they needed. Aidan Gunarr _was_ a _good_ man. He was frowning and Tumnus could guess at the many disconcerting questions the peculiar story raised.

"Briony?" Tumnus said in an undertone that the sharp-eared Wolf would hear even over the din of conversation and drink.

She immediately turned her head in his direction.

"If it is as before, Lucy will want to talk of this. I will wait in my rooms."

He had no more stomach for celebration. Tumnus drained another mug of wine, thinking it had already begun to go sour and did not blame Bacchus in the least.

* * *

 _Meanwhile at Anvard everyone was very glad that he had been disposed of before the real fun began, which was a grand feast held that evening on the lawn before the castle, with dozens of lanterns to help the moonlight. And the wine flowed and tales were told and jokes were cracked, and then silence was made and the King's poet with two fiddlers stepped out into the middle of the circle. Aravis and Cor prepared themselves to be bored, for the only poetry they knew was the Calormene kind, and you know now what that was like. But at the very first scrape of the fiddles a rocket seemed to go up inside their heads, and the poet sang the great old lay of Fair Olvin and how he fought the Giant Pire and turned him into stone (and that is the origin of Mount Pire - it was a two-headed Giant) and won the Lady Liln for his bride; and when it was over they wished it was going to begin again. And though Bree couldn't sing he told the story of the fight at Zalindreh. And Lucy told again (they had all, except Aravis and Cor, heard it many times but they all wanted it again) the tale of the Wardrobe and how she and King Edmund and Queen Susan and Peter the High King had first come into Narnia._

Chapter 15, _Rabadash The Ridiculous_ , The Horse And His Boy

* * *

Part 2 and epilogue to follow


	2. The Tale of the Diplomatic Liar

Dance today! Do not dwell on the past dance nor dream of future ones. Embrace the present moment for it will never come again.  
 _Advice of Father Pan to the young Faun Cleitus_

* * *

Harah and Kangee were perched on the chairs in his chamber. Tumnus quickly penned the short note in Rat and Crow code.

 _hound curd falcon_  
 _forest mice flow?_  
 _crow deer brick_

Translated, the cipher meant, more or less, _Morgan, please come to Anvard as soon as possible. The financial matters are difficult and emotions concerning Jadis may have arisen. Your bondmate and I could use your support._

Tumnus did not think the dark circumstances of his first days in Narnia usually troubled King Edmund in any outward way. But the story Lucy reluctantly told this evening stirred up things better left alone and Tumnus feared King Edmund would brood, fall behind on the work, and then, disastrously, try to catch up by not sleeping and eating, which he always thought he could do, and couldn't without making everyone around him miserable. King Edmund might also be comparing his own merciful redemption to Rabadash's humiliating punishment. From occasional remarks Banker Morgan had made about Aslan, Tumnus inferred that she knew the truth of King Edmund's horrible early days in Narnia and properly laid the blame where he himself did – on Aslan. If the matter did trouble King Edmund, Banker Morgan would force a better perspective. She was coming to Anvard anyway and King Edmund would be far more agreeable and productive if sharing a desk with his bondmate during the day and a bed with her at night. It would certainly make Tumnus' own work easier if Banker Morgan was here to share it and manage King Edmund. And she could do all the numbers.

Tumnus tapped a finger to his lips.

"You done yet?" Harah asked, being a Crow about it.

"In a moment." Borrowing from Jalur's baseless threat, he added, _sharks!_ to the note. Banker Morgan would read that a persistent man or woman was pursuing King Edmund for a romantic dalliance. She was as protective as Jalur and, in some spheres, far more dangerous – Jalur would just eat a threat, Banker Morgan would financially ruin them.

Satisfied with his work, he blew lightly on the ink. "Beak or leg?" he asked the Crows.

"Beak's fine," Harah said.

He rolled the note carefully into a twig shape. "Take this straight to Banker Morgan. She may already be on the road. If not, she should leave Cair Paravel immediately."

"Got it," Kangee said. "We'll find her, bring her straight away."

"I have some shinys for your trouble," Tumnus said, opening up his wooden box of glittery trinkets for the Crows to admire. "But I thought you might prefer to put down a wager in the Crows' Murder and we could share the winnings?"

"What's that?" Kangee asked as Harah bobbed her head with excitement. Crowns to Crows, they'd take the bet. He closed the box lid and pushed it aside to keep the Crows from stealing from it if he turned his head.

"Within the year, I wager Aidan Gunarr and his family will be in Narnia and Queen Lucy will be expecting."

"Expecting what?" Harah asked.

"A pup, foal – baby – _an egg_. I wager she will be pregnant with Aidan Gunarr's child."

"You think?" Kangee asked, hopping from foot to foot. "That'd be good odds. No one in the Murder at the Cair knows about this yet."

"You can't place the bet without us. We want 50% of the winnings," Hara demanded. "And we'd better get the bet in before Banker Morgan finds out and drives down the odds."

It was a wager Tumnus would have made with Sir Leszi, their boozing, lecherous swordmaster. But the Satyr had been killed at the Ettin border last week and his body only just returned to Cair Paravel. Once everyone was back at the Cair, there would be a farewell and Leszi's body would be returned to the Mother Trees where Father Pan would take it and someday remake another Satyr in his image.

"I leave the placing of the wager to you but you are correct about Banker Morgan. We need to get it in now while the odds are good. I'll put down three Lions, and a half a case of Galman brandy." Peridan could always get very good prices on his brother's brandy and would only drink half of it before making the delivery.

Harah and Kangee both bobbed their heads again. "Done," Harah said. "We should be able to get at least 10 to 1 if we hurry." She opened her beak and he put the rolled up, coded note in it.

"Find Banker Morgan first, then place the wager, or I'll take back that brandy," he warned. Tumnus understood Crow priorities very well.

Kangee squawked but Harah nodded her head. Tumnus went to the window and threw open the shutter. The Crows flew out and away into the night. He was just closing the shutter when he heard the expected knock on the door.

"Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy called in a tremulous voice. "Briony said we could come see you?"

"Yes, please do!"

Lucy rushed in, her face streaked with predictable tears, and threw her arms around him.

"Why don't I remember?" she sobbed.

He held her lightly, stroking her back, and let her tears wet his fur. The first time this had happened, she'd been fourteen years younger, a little girl. A woman and Queen now wept quietly into his shoulder, but the dismay was the same today as it had been the first time, and all the times over the years when this drama replayed, with Lucy, and with her brothers and sister.

He gestured to Aidan, hanging about in the doorway. "Please, come in, all of you, and shut the door. Aidan, would you please pour the tea? It's an herbal mint I brought from home."

"That tea is my favourite when I'm upset," Lucy sniffed. "Did you know I would need it?"

"I always travel with it when I am going to see you, just in case. Just as I always have an extra handkerchief." He handed her the clean one from his vest pocket.

"Should I go?" Aidan asked, setting out only two cups. "Do you want to talk to Tumnus alone?"

Lucy looked down at him, uncertain, and bit her lip. He gently squeezed her arms and drew her slightly away. He hoped Aidan had become Narnian enough to know how to pretend to not hear even if he could. He whispered, "It is your decision but I assure you there is no shame here. If Aidan means to you what I think he does, you will both want him to know this."

"Why don't I remember?" she repeated miserably.

"You began forgetting almost the day you arrived in Narnia, Lucy. Why don't we all sit? Aidan, please stay."

As Aidan deftly poured out the tea with nary a drip, Tumnus thought he probably had made the seedcake himself, maybe with the help of that hardworking niece Willa mentioned. "Lucy, how do you take your tea?"

Tumnus restrained himself from advertising his intimacy with Lucy and let her say, "Milk and sugar, thank you."

The Four all drank their tea that way and in their first months in Narnia had relished it as something they could not get "at home" because of "rationing" during "the War." Tea with milk and sugar or honey was one of the few vestiges of their old lives that remained.

He took his tea plain, as most older Narnians did, from a time when there had been no milk or honey at all and only brewed bark. The Four's tea preference had become popular amongst younger Narnians as _Royal_ – "I take my cuppa Royal, thanks."

"Do you have your journal?" Briony asked.

"I do."

"What journal?" Lucy asked. His room had been furnished with two comfortably stuffed chairs – Lucy's doing, surely – and he had brought in a third chair in anticipation of this conference. She sat next to Aidan and Tumnus sat across from them, a small table between them that they hunched over and bumped their knees against. Briony sat at Lucy's side and rested her chin on the table. It was an intimate space for shedding tears and telling secrets. He sipped his tea to moisten his mouth for the talking to come and drew his journal into his lap.

"Briony remembers that I kept a journal of how you, Peter, Susan, and Edmund first arrived in Narnia and when you began to forget where you came from. Aidan, I suspect your experience will be like that of Briony's, and as it has been with the other Guards. What I will say, Lucy has heard before and, by even the week's end, she will forget it. You and Briony, however, will remember and if you have any questions, please come and see me and I will try to answer them. There is no point in quizzing Lucy on this for she will not remember."

As it had in the years before, Lucy's voice quavered. "I will forget? _Again_?"

Gently, he said, "If the pattern holds, yes. I know it seems hard, but you have lived with it, happily, for fourteen years." He opened the journal to the first pages where he had carefully recorded what the children had told him in the days following Aslan's return, the Battle of Beruna, and their Coronation. He had quickly seen that some peculiar and powerful magic was at work for they all began to rapidly lose the details of their home and lives, with things they told him often forgotten within a ten-day. "The oldest memory you have is meeting me in the wood, in the snow, with my parcels and umbrella. Correct?"

She nodded and took a sip of tea but the cup rattled so in her shaking hand, she set it back down. "I visited with you a second time, too, and then I returned with Peter, Susan and Edmund and we went to the Beavers. But I don't remember anything before that or what happened in between." Her voice trembled and another tear slid down her face. "When I have to tell that dreadful story, I always say I came from the City of War Drobe in the land of Spare Oom but I don't remember anything about them or ever living there. I only say them because I remember you saying those words and they are part of the story everyone has memorised."

"I know where you come from, Lucy, because I saw it. After your first visit, I took you back to the Lamppost and I asked if you knew the way and you said, 'Yes, I can see the _wardrobe_ door.'" He emphasized the word. "Through the trees, I saw the wooden door of a _wardrobe_ that opened into an empty _spare room_ in a house. I saw you walk through that door and disappear."

"A wardrobe in a spare room," Lucy murmured. "So that part is real?"

"It is. You came to Narnia from there."

"My home?"

"Narnia is your home, Lucy," Briony said firmly.

Tumnus nodded. "The wardrobe was in a spare room of a country house in a place called England. That is where you came from."

"England?" Aidan repeated. "That's not on any map I've seen. I've never marched through it, surely."

"No, it is not a place you reach by foot, or horseback, or even by sea, though I've never journeyed so far. It is a doorway, to another place beyond the confines of this world that opens by Aslan's will alone."

"England," Lucy murmured, closing her eyes. "It was…"

Fourteen years ago, he had recorded the words she used to describe the place. "It was dangerous and frightening."

She opened her eyes and nodded.

"Peter and Susan told me right after you came to Narnia that England was at war and fighting a terrible enemy called Nazis. It was dire. You lived near a great city called London and things called bombs were falling from the sky and killing people and destroying buildings greater than Cair Paravel."

"That's the stuff of nightmares, even for an adult," Aidan said.

Aidan was likely speaking personally of the horrors he had seen in battle that he wished he could forget.

Tumnus leaned forward and took her hands in his. "Lucy, your _mother_ sent you to this country house for your own safety."

"My mother?" Lucy said in a small voice.

"Her name was Helen."

"Helen," Lucy repeated. "And my father?"

"His name was John and he had been away for a long time, with the army, fighting in the war."

Lucy rubbed her eyes on her shoulder to blot the tears. "I don't remember them, Tumnus. How can I forget my own parents?"

Tumnus caught Aidan's eye. Aidan moved to put his arms around Lucy and Briony sidled up on her other side; Tumnus withdrew his own hands from hers.

"You and Peter forgot first, Lucy. I think Peter felt such overwhelming responsibility for Narnia, he could not bear the burden of England, too. You completely embraced Narnia, immediately. You were also very young. Memories fade sooner in the young."

"It's not your fault, Lucy," Aidan said. "My boys have already forgotten their mother. It happens."

"And it happened to all of you. Susan remembered your parents the longest but she forgot, too, by your third anniversary in Narnia."

"And Edmund?"

"Edmund remembered many details the longest. But, eventually, he forgot London, England, and the Nazis, too, a few months after Susan did."

Edmund had not forgotten their parents precisely – he just deliberately blotted them out. Tumnus thought there had been tremendous pain for Edmund associated with their father.

Tumnus glanced at Aidan, uncertain as to how much more of that story to share. Ultimately, it was not his decision and he chose his words carefully. "Unlike the rest of you, Edmund does seem to remember more of the person he had been when he first entered Narnia, the decisions he made, and why he made them."

"He remembers because he doesn't want to forget," Lucy said.

"What's that?" Aidan asked, obviously curious at their oblique exchange.

She patted his hand, a heartachingly familiar gesture to Tumnus, though her touch had never lingered on his own hands as they now did on Aidan's. "Another story, for another day, that is for Edmund to tell, should he choose to do so."

And Aidan, to his credit, simply nodded.

Calmer, Lucy took a sip of her tea. She leaned against Aidan, looking at him thoughtfully, and then set down her cup.

"Tumnus, does your journal have anything more about my mother? I find it oddly coincidental that she and Queen Helen share the same name. Is there some connection? The story of Narnia's Creation says Aslan summoned Helen from beyond the confines of the world."

Tumnus now hesitated, for this could lead to questions he did not want to answer.

"A connection is a reasonable conclusion to draw, Lucy, though its contours are unclear. The Creation story says that Lord Digory, Lady Polly, King Frank, and Fledge all arrived in Narnia from somewhere else, bringing Jadis with them. As you say, Aslan later summoned Helen from that same somewhere else place to join her husband."

"Yes," Lucy said carefully. To Aidan, she added, "You probably know the story as it is the beginning of how King Col founded Archenland, dearest."

"And there is that funny part about that thing the Beasts tried to plant that wasn't actually a tree!"

"I believe, Lucy, that the humans all came from the same place you did, from England. Queen Helen's earliest diary entries mention England and London until she and Frank also both forgot their former lives, just as you have. Perhaps Helen is a common name in England, or perhaps she has some relationship to your mother."

Into the silence that followed, Aidan was the one who eventually spoke the unthinkable. "King Frank and Queen Helen stayed until they died. But what about the others? The story says Aslan sent them back."

The painful possibility now dawned on her fair face. "Oh, Tumnus, what might that mean!?"

He asked the obvious, to stall, "Have you bespoken Aslan?"

"He told me that he rejoices in my happiness and that Aidan is a worthy partner."

 _Pity he didn't deign to share that information with Queen Susan about Rabadash. Or warn the High King two days earlier of the Ettin raid._

"Do you think Aslan would send us away, as he did Polly and Digory?" Lucy rushed on, answering her own question with the only answer she could entertain. "Surely not! Aslan wouldn't do that. He loves us, and Narnia."

 _Yet he let us starve and freeze for a century. He brought Edmund to Narnia only to have him meet Jadis so that he could senselessly sacrifice himself and have his army march to war believing their omnipotent leader murdered._

 _He's a Lion, Lucy. Not a Human. He has no idea what you feel and only cares so long as it aligns with his plans, not yours. And those plans can be cruel indeed._

But for Lucy, being sent back to England was unimaginable for she remembered no other life except Narnia.

Tumnus was an accomplished liar – all old Narnians were. His skill in deception was a talent honed in service of Jadis and that now made him so very useful to his Monarchs as a diplomat. And he was a Faun and he knew what Father Pan would say. _Embrace the present moment for it will never come again._

Lucy was happier than she had ever been and was in love with a very good person – and he really hoped Harah and Kangee got their wager in before the odds went down.

"He surely does love you, Lucy," Tumnus said. "And as surely, he never acts without a reason. Polly and Digory were here only for a few days; Frank and Helen lived here for many years, as you have. Logically, perhaps the reason you have forgotten your own history is because you have no need of it here."

He hated himself, but like the good diplomat and lying Nairnian he was, added, "Perhaps you have forgotten your old home so there are no impediments to seizing the joy that comes to you, so that you can embrace your forever home, Narnia."

ooOOoo

The winter wind beat pellets of ice against the wooden shutters protecting the windows of the Cair Paravel nursery. Tumnus raised his voice a little over the rattle.

"And that, Friends, is where the Tale of the Wayward Llamas ends, in which your brave Aunt, Queen Susan the Gentle, Bow-Arm and Hornblower, saved the Llamas, Shadow and Fax, from certain doom. Your lesson, and all Narnian tales have a lesson, is to never ask a Llama for directions lest you end up in a very sticky place and in need of rescuing."

There was no applause but he'd not expected any. Tumnus stiffly rose from his rocking chair to poke the fire in the hearth for the room had cooled as he had told the story to his rapt audience. Well, little Helen was paying wide-eyed attention, though the wooden block she had been chewing on probably entertained her more. As it was still daylight, Edmund Linch had slept through the whole thing.

Jalur was stretched out in the nursery doorway like a giant striped and toothy rug, blocking anyone from coming or going without his leave. Briony yawned and shook herself. Tiger and Wolf were guarding just as it had always been, except it was not the same at all.

"Lambert says there is an alternate version of the story that casts Llamas as the heroes who save Queen Susan," Briony said. She pricked her ears in the direction of the corridor outside the nursery. "Aidan comes."

Jalur grumbled and moved his hindquarters a little to the side so the Lord Regent of Narnia could make it through the door.

"Good afternoon all! And how is my princess?" Aidan bent down and picked up little Helen. She squealed in delight as her father tossed her, gently, into the air.

"Careful!" Briony warned. "Regent Morgan just nursed her and she may spit it all up again."

Aidan grimaced. "Thank you for the warning!" He snagged a wipe cloth draped over Helen's cot and tucked it under her chin.

"Your timing is excellent," Tumnus said. "We just finished the Tale of the Wayward Llamas and before that I told them of Polly and Digory's flight on Fledge."

"Not _Nymphs and their Ways_?" Aidan asked.

"A few more years yet before they are ready for readings from that text."

And some day, he would tell them of the dark and tragic _Tale of the White Stag_ _of Doom_ _and the Day the Four Disappeared_.

Lucy had barely known her daughter before the Four disappeared. Hunting the White Stag had been her first time on a horse since Helen's birth. Edmund had plunged into the wood not even knowing his wife was pregnant. Once Edmund Linch was born, Morgan took it upon herself to feed both children until they could be weaned to goat milk in a cup.

"Jalur, Briony, I would like to speak to Tumnus privately," Aidan said. Helen gurgled happily. "Please do not try to listen."

The Guards immediately rose and went out of the nursery. Briony would have to go further down the hall as her hearing was more acute. Aidan shut the heavy door. It creaked the way Tumnus' own joints did these winter days.

"You knew, didn't you?" Aidan said.

Tumnus poked the fire again. He had expected this query from Aidan for months. Aidan was, he had come to see, the only sort of person that Lucy could have given her heart to. There was no darkness or artifice in Aidan. There was no subtlety either, but this did not mean he was simple. It was easy to underestimate someone who was so innately good and compassionate.

"The opposite," he admitted. "I did _not_ know what might happen. What I did was make assertions with confidence that was not warranted. Lucy trusted her happiness to Aslan; I did not."

Aidan nodded thoughtfully and rocked Helen, who was trying to grab at the brass button on his shirt. "Yes, I can see that."

Tumnus crossed from the hearth to Edmund Linch's cot. The boy had his father's hair, his mother's dark skin, and, in his erratic sleeping, showed himself to truly be the child of both his parents.

"Why don't you trust Aslan?"

Tumnus pulled the blanket embroidered with Crows and Hounds up over Edmund Linch's legs. The boy always kicked off his sleep covering. "My faith in Aslan died during the one hundred years in the dark cold, starving, and waiting for him to save us. Narnians had three choices. If you didn't flee, you died. If you didn't want to die, you were complicit in the Witch's reign."

Peter and Susan, perhaps because they had been older at the time and more experienced in their own war, recognized what he had been, and the Beavers, with their nice home, food, and machinery. Peter called them all _collaborators_. It had been a relief when that part of their memories faded.

"Aslan finally sent children to do what he could have done in a moment and by then it was too late for Narnians like me. Maybe he thought we weren't worth the effort to save us himself."

The fire flickered in the hearth. Was it Aslan expressing his disappointment in Tumnus' apostasy? He didn't care.

"Do you think she remembers me?" Aidan asked. "Does she remember our daughter? They all forgot where they came from. Maybe, once they went back, they forgot all about us."

"You think forgetting is better?"

"Don't you?"

Tumnus heard the plea in Aidan's words.

"Surely she has forgotten, Aidan. Aslan loves Lucy. He could never be that cruel to her."

It was another lie, but one that was so much easier than the truth.

* * *

To those who have followed and read my work, that end is a surprise. In chapter 2 of TQSiT, Peter reflects specifically on the consorts and children that were left behind. The identity of the consorts was revealed very slowly over the course of TSG. The reader knows, though Edmund does not know for certain, that he left a child behind. This is the first time we learn that Lucy also had a child. As I've written in comments on AO3, I've not decided if it's part of the greater TSG-verse or not. It made sense for the story my recipient requested. It may not make sense within the context of the greater TSG-verse. This isn't an ending I would have done 6 years ago when I first entered this fandom. As Jalur says to Edmund in _By Royal Decree_ , time here has left a mark.

My thanks to Heliopause, Syrena, and Metonomia for the beta assistance and to Snacky for her patience.

And now, to finish Star Husband (Lucy and Asim next) and _then on to, back to AW. Really. promise._


End file.
